Chuck vs a Grinch, Ground Rules, and a Grand Marq
by jagged1
Summary: When Chuck’s plans for a romantic holiday are put on ice, Team Bartowski embarks on a crazy journey home.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: For those of you desperate for some fun and romance (uh, to read I mean ;), I bring you a three part Team Bartowski holiday story. I decided it was time to once again _attempt_ to give back to the community and hopefully spread some cheer! _

_There will be __**humorous misadventures, some angst**__, and __**bonding**__ in one package and a stocking full of __**Charah **__to round it out. (if you are into that sort of thing:)_

_My end goal is fun and fluff, folks._

_A huge thank you is in order to the Webbed Wonder of Wisdom, __**DrMcDuck**__, for the invaluable input! She provided gentle guidance in helping me connect the dots with this one. The Duck is an incredible writer, and was kind enough to find time to beta this while also writing the epic 'Chuck vs. the Accidental Benedict Arnold'._

_Disclaimer: Don't own it. Just takin' them out for a little road trip. _

* * *

**Chapter 1 – The Best Laid Plans are Laid to Rest**

"I'm cancelling your Christmas."

Chuck stared blankly at the monitor, trying to process the words. Beckman's face was in a pinched expression and her bun tight and smooth. He swore if he squinted, he would not see the general, but instead the green, loose, fleshy face of the Grinch staring back. He could almost hear the ominous voice of Boris Karloff instead of the general's usual bark.

_Damn_, he thought, _that woman's heart _is_ two sizes too small_.

Chuck quickly glanced over to his side to gage the reactions of Team Bartowski's other two members. Casey stood with his arms across his chest, his black polo smooth and stretched across his broad upper body, saying nothing. He was doing a reasonably good job of suppressing a pissed off look. Apparently, Chuck thought, he was holding that back for later when it could savor it with a scotch on the rocks. Sarah's mouth was a thin line, her lips closed, but a small crease on her forehead told Chuck she was not relishing the thought of what amounted to the other shoe getting ready to drop.

The momentary silence that followed Beckman's words was interrupted only by the steady hum of Castle's vast amount of electronic equipment, and the nervous tapping sound of Chuck's foot against the table leg. Sarah cast an annoyed look in his direction. "Sorry," he whispered loudly. He knew that annoyed look from the blonde was not specifically directed at him, but rather at this turn of events.

Well, he was pretty sure it wasn't meant for him.

Casey was the first to break the silence. "General, what are your orders?" he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I will be more specific. I was speaking to Agent Walker, only. You, Colonel Casey, will not be needed for this mission. I understand you have made arrangements to visit your family for a few days." Chuck could not believe that her face actually softened when she spoke next. "It has been quite a long time, John." A sarcastic grunt escaped from the big man, and the general raised an eyebrow in contempt, a look that was usually reserved only for the Human Intersect when it spoke out of turn.

"That wasn't a request, Colonel."

"Wait. Wait a minute." Chuck stood up, bewildered by what he was hearing, and pointed in Casey's direction. "The man who has fewer _feelings _than a Vulcan is going to be home celebrating Christmas and in the meantime…" Chuck's voice trailed off when he realized that he sounded like a jerk for begrudging Casey something he probably deserved. He also realized that there was no good way to continue without revealing to the general what he and Sarah _had_ planned to be doing on Christmas Eve.

"I know one _feeling_ I'll have is your throat clenched in my fists if you don't shut your trap now," the larger man hissed.

Chuck glared at Casey, but kept his mouth shut. His plan was beginning to unravel like a ball of yarn, and like everything else in his life, he couldn't control it, either. Ellie and Awesome had left for the east coast two days earlier, and would return on Christmas night for a heart-warming Bartowski celebration. It was one of the compromises of learning to split time between the families for the holidays now that they were a married couple. Chuck was grateful for the fact that there would be several glorious days with no missions, no spy stuff, and no glitchy Intersect 2.0 to ruin his life. He had invited Sarah over for dinner on Christmas Eve, and hoped that the third first date would be the charm. Maybe they could finally clear some of the air that had been hanging heavy between them since he had downloaded 2.0 the night of the wedding. Now that plan had appeared to go up in a puff of smoke.

_There was a consolation prize, however_, he thought. The curly haired man suddenly was hit by a wave of realization of what he had just heard, and a slow, side-ways smile grew on his face. His Christmas now looked like a pile of leftovers, but at least he could take advantage of a small opportunity that had just presented itself: an opportunity to goad Casey.

"Hold on. Did I hear that right? Casey has made plans to spend Christmas with his family? A little eggnog and carols 'round the tree, big guy?" Chuck smirked at the usually detached man.

Sarah recognized Casey's expression. It looked like a steam engine that had finally built up enough torque and was on the verge of blowing. _Didn't Chuck know by now not to wave the red flag in front of the bull? _she thought.

Before Casey could react, the general's even voice broke the tension. "Excuse me, gentlemen. Perhaps we can discuss the mission. This will affect you, too, Mr. Bartowski."

Chuck sat back down at the conference table, and the large screen in front of them displayed a split image, one of an attractive woman in her mid-thirties, with long dark hair. Immediately, the Intersect flooded Chuck with images of the woman's past. His teammates watched him intently and waited for him to come out of the flash.

"Meredith Davies. CIA. Flawless record of successful missions in Hong Kong, Sao Paulo, Rome, and … Windsor, Ontario? Hmm, that last one doesn't seem to fit in, does it?" he said with a puzzled tone.

"Chuck: focus." Sarah sounded slightly exasperated.

He looked at Sarah. "Uh, yes. Well, she was one of your instructors at the Farm. Damned good one too." He paused. "You had a close friendship. General, maybe we have our wires crossed? I don't see an issue here."

"This, Mr. Bartowski, is the issue." The screen image split again, to reveal a flash drive, a file folder, and a small safe. "These items were found in Ms. Davies' apartment. We have examined the contents and believe that she is linked to the Ring."

But Chuck never heard the last sentences uttered by general, because the second set of images had sent the Intersect whirring into motion again. When the flash ended, the Human Intersect took a breath, but to the surprise of the other three, it was not followed by the usual burst of chatter. Instead, he looked up nervously at Sarah and said nothing.

"What did you see?"

His expression was sad, and she recognized the fact that he was withholding information to protect her feelings.

"Just say it. Say what you saw."

Chuck gazed up at the woman who was now leaning over the table and looking at him.

"I think she's part of the Ring."

"Agent Walker, Ms. Davies been taken into our custody, but so far has resisted discussing her involvement. We know that you had a close friendship with Meredith while you were at the Farm; we need to exploit that. We think that a friendly face from her past may get her to share the information on the inner Ring that we believe she has."

Sarah glanced across the table at Chuck while she spoke. "You mentioned that Chuck will be affected by this mission as well. I don't understand why he needs to be involved in this, General."

The general looked at Sarah. "As I said, Colonel Casey will be taking some much needed time off. Chuck will travel with you here to Washington. However, you are correct in that the Intersect will not be _involved_ in this mission. He will stay at a secure facility while in D.C. It will also give a few of our top-level scientists an opportunity to work with the Intersect. "

_Oh..no..no..no..no..no.. _Chuck did not like the way she had emphasized the word "work" in that statement.

The large man, standing stoically for most of the discussion, crossed his arms and let out an amused grunt. Sarah watched Chuck's face go slack, and as he started to speak, she turned to the screen to preempt his argument.

"General, if I may, the plan to take Chuck to Washington is extremely risky. "

"What do you mean, Agent Walker?" she asked, obviously not pleased with her judgment being questioned.

"We know that Fulcrum and now the Ring has operatives on the inside of all agencies. Meredith could be proof of that. If Chuck shows up at any of our facilities, he is effectively put on the radar of anyone who has access to the activities within those facilities. The best place for Chuck is off the grid,not in Washington. Especially now."

Beckman contemplated the argument and shook her head.

"You may have a valid argument, Agent Walker, but I feel the alternative of leaving Chuck in L.A. is even riskier. The option of bringing in other agents to Operation Bartowski has also proven…_unsuccessful_. My job is to decide which risk I can live with. So, unless anyone else has a valid objection, I expect…" The general's next words were cut off by the blonde at the table.

"He can go with Casey."

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at the blonde seated at the table: one pair in anger at being interrupted, one pair in complete confusion, and one pair in utter horror.

Then, Sarah watched as the two men and the general began speaking at once.

"Wha…?"

"The _hell_ he will."

"Explain yourself, Agent Walker."

She looked at the fuming men in front of her and blew out a breath. "He can't stay here, but it is too risky anywhere else." She leveled a look at Chuck, who was now standing with his hands on his hips and an angry look on his face. _Please be quiet and trust me_, she thought. "That only leaves one other option, as painful as that may be for some members of our team." Sarah looked down at the table for a moment, trying to quickly formulate a plan, and then turned to Casey, "Chuck is a member of your team, your unit, who has parents out of the country and a girlfriend who dumped him a week before Christmas. You are doing a favor to a _friend_ to help him through a bad time." She glared at Casey, daring him to argue with her.

Casey's eyes sparked with anger, and he uncrossed his arms and took a step towards the monitor. "There is no way my mother is going to believe that I would pick up a stray and bring it home. This cover story is completely crazy, General."

Sarah leveled a cold stare at him with icy blue eyes. "It will be a Christmas miracle for your mother; she will think you have a soul." Her eyes also sent another message. _Do this. For me_.

"Wait a minute. Don't I get a vote here? You know, me—the Intersect?" The curly-headed man spoke up and regarded the agents before continuing. "Sometimes you people forget that I have the new and improved sports package." He emphasized the last two words by flattening his palms and slashing them through the air in a tight motion. "I think I can handle this on my own, General."

Beckman leaned forward in her seat until her face nearly filled the screen. "The new Intersect has proven itself to be unpredictable at best and extremely dangerous at worst." She sighed and then frowned. "Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Bartowski. It is too much of a risk to leave you here in L.A. unprotected and without the proper security measures. Pack your bags." She paused, weighing the risks and closely examining the faces in front of her. "Chuck, you leave with Colonel Casey tomorrow. Agent Walker, we will need you in Washington as soon as possible. I'm sending a jet tonight."

-x-

"I'm sorry."

Chuck and Sarah were standing in the parking lot of the Double O, and Sarah glanced over at the Crown Vic, where Casey was sitting in the front seat seething at his partner. He had not uttered a word since the end of the video conference with the general.

"Why are you sorry?" Chuck asked. "For saving me from the 'high level scientists' who wanted to do God-knows-what to my brain for a few days? No thank you. I'll take my chances with Casey and his family."

"You'll be safe. That's what important. Just don't make him angry."

"Sarah, remember he is angry when he sees my face. There is nothing I can do about that. Besides, I should be saying I am sorry to you."

"Why?"

"Because you have to spend Christmas doing something…well, unpleasant. Sarah, you are a good friend," he said, thinking of Meredith sitting in a cell somewhere.

"I was."

"You still are. You just forget that sometimes."

She smiled lightly, and reaching for his hand, rubbed her thumb over it in a small circle.

"I'll see you when you get back. Maybe we can take a rain check on the dinner." Sarah turned and walked to her car. Chuck sighed heavily, plodding over to the Crown Vic.

-x-

Casey had not said a word on the way back to the Woodcomb apartment. That was quite a normal occurrence, so Chuck just stared out the passenger window. _How did things get so screwed up_? His mind wandered over details of the last few months; moving in with Morgan had been a huge albeit short-lived mistake and another low point in his life since the Stanford debacle. He still regretted his cockiness after downloading Intersect 2.0; cockiness that eventually led to a well-deserved proverbial ass scorching from all fronts, including Team Bartowski's two other members and the general. _God, did I really think I was a spy?_ he thought derisively.

And now here he was, back living with his sister again. Somehow, on the "Loser in Life" scale, with Jeff being a 1, and Awesome being a 9.8, having to live with your married sister seemed much worse than living with your single sister. So, Chuck figured, he was probably a four now instead of a six. Having the world's hottest girlfriend did not up the ante, because the relationship was now stuck somewhere in the gray space between complex and an awkward cover.

Even the whole "Saving the World" thing didn't really matter, because _that_ was a national security secret, and would have no bearing on his real life. _Whatever that was anymore_, he thought sarcastically. Chuck sighed again and tried to shake off the negative thoughts. He glanced over at the driver. Casey was the only person who was truly happy with him being back under his sister's roof; top-notch surveillance was already established, and the occasional dinner invitation was a guaranteed delicious home-cooked meal, courtesy of Ellie Woodcomb.

Chuck had been so lost in his self-pity that he had not noticed when they had arrived at the apartment complex and Casey was parking the car. Both of them got out, and the older man stomped through the cobbled archway, past the fountain, and towards the entrance to his apartment. He finally turned back to look at the lanky man heading into his own home, and broke the icy silence.

"Have your scrawny butt packed and in the courtyard by 0900."

"Wait. Do you mind at least giving me some hint as to where we are going? I mean, please tell me I can pack for a warm place, maybe a beach…somewhere?"

"Bring a warm coat." The large man sneered, and pulled his door closed.

_Up next: Prepare to be Heartw…harmed – Christmas with the Caseys _


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: A special thanks to those of you that left a review and/or set an alert for the story. As I mentioned in my PMs to you, it is very encouraging to me to hear what you think – you are awesome! Much appreciated! Ditto for all other disclaimers and notes._

**Chapter 2 - Prepare to be Heart w…harmed – Christmas with the Caseys.**

"Sooooo. I have never been to the Midwest. This will be exciting, huh?"

"Don't worry, Bartowski. After three days, it will be ready to spit you out and send you back to the land of …"

"Don't say it, okay? I don't want to hear about the land of fruits and nuts."

"I was gonna say freaks and weirdoes, but, yeah, that works too. _Move._"

Chuck picked up the pace to keep up with Casey's long strides. Each of the men lugged a duffle bag across his back and dodged the crowds of strollers, beeping electric carts, rolling briefcases, children, elderly, and every other kind of humanity that inhabits an airport before a major holiday. _Who would be insane enough to travel three days before Christmas?_ _Oh, yeah. Us_, Chuck thought.

He turned to Casey. "You know, you would think with the…," he pointed to his head "we would be able to get a nice government issued jet to take us to Chicago."

"Well, it's not enough that the U.S. government has shelled out millions to support your shtick, now you want it to waste even more taxpayer money? _Great job_." Casey growled and pushed through the crowds.

-x-

CIA Facility

"I'm going in to talk to her," Sarah said as she glanced over at the two agents who had been assigned to assist her with the interrogation. The men were the kind that the CIA must pump out of a factory, she thought sarcastically: handsome, competent, but detached and humorless. She supposed they had names, not that it mattered, and in her mind she referred to them simply as Stumpy and Abner. Seemed fitting. One sat at the computer, the other leaned against the glass, scrutinizing Sarah.

She had spent the last thirty minutes standing with her arms crossed, studying Meredith Davies on the other side of the one-way glass. The brunette was seated in a metal chair in front of a small table with her wrists cuffed behind her back. Fluorescent lights cast a harsh, clinical glow to the room. Sarah observed that Meredith had been given prisoner issued garments to wear, though guessed little to nothing to eat or drink since being brought there.

The CIA knew how to slowly weaken the resolve of those that crossed it.

Using the security code, Sarah entered the room carrying a file folder and a bottle of water. She grabbed the only other chair in the room and slid it up to the table. Meredith had given no sign of recognition, but they both knew why Sarah was there, why they had chosen Sarah to be the one facing Meredith from across the table. Sarah waited for the brunette; eventually she would be the first to break the silence.

"I wondered when you would get here. I knew it was just a matter of time though, right?" Meredith said cynically.

Sarah didn't answer her, but got up and walked around her chair to remove the cuffs. She then placed the bottle of water on the table in front of Meredith.

"Take it."

Meredith eyed the blonde, while rubbing her wrists, and then hastily grabbed the bottle. Sarah watched as the woman gulped the water, and then set it down and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Meredith, we need t…," Sarah started, only to be interrupted.

"Susan, or whoever they have changed you to: stop. We're not going to do this, okay?" The woman chuckled. "Let's cut through the bull. We both know why you're here. Did they seriously think I would believe the 'friend in need' ploy? The good cop? Is there someone behind that glass who is going to break my knees if you don't get the information you need?"

Sarah stood up and leaned over the table to look Meredith in the eyes. She had to find a way to quickly diffuse this situation, to earn trust as the past confidant, before it tumbled out of control.

"You want me to cut through the bull? Okay, here it is. I'm trying to help you, Meredith. I'm here because you are…were my friend. You did the same for me. But I can't do that if you won't let me. And trust me on this: You do not want me to walk out of here and leave."

Meredith squinted at her, reading through the game. She decided to play along.

"Sit down, Susan." Meredith smiled derisively. "Let's talk. First, I want to hear what the CIA…._golden girl_ has been doing for the past six years. And, what do you know? I have all in the time world, _friend_."

-x-

Chicago

The rented tan colored Taurus pulled down a residential street lined with neat, older homes that weren't large, but were tidy. _Cozy even_, Chuck thought to himself. That is not the word he had expected to come to mind when he thought of the Casey family abode; austere, terrifying, or cave-like were the words he thought would be more fitting. The car slowed, and Casey eased it into a driveway of a two-story home. In the dusk, Chuck could make out a white bungalow with blue trim around each window. The front porch was wide and welcoming, with a heavy oak door and white painted wicker chairs on either side of it.

"You remember what I told you?"

"You mean, what you told me when we waited at the airport, what you told me again on the plane, and what you repeated when we waited for the rental car?"

"Yeah, that."

"Seriously?" Casey returned a look that confirmed indeed he was serious.

"Okay. One: Keep my mouth shut unless asked a question. Two: Remember the cover at all times. Three: Do not touch or look at anything. Four: Address your mother as Mrs. Casey. Five: When we leave, I will forget everything and never, ever bring up what I have seen or heard. Six: Keep my mouth shut. Does that about cover it, Casey?"

"Just remember one and six and you'll be fine."

The younger man pulled his light jacket, the warmest one he owned, tighter around his chest and braced himself for the bitterly cold air. They stepped out of the car, grabbing their duffle bags from the back seat, crossed the yard and made their way up the stairs of the porch. Chuck raised his fist preparing to knock, but Casey rolled his eyes at him and pushed the door open. Chuck followed him in, dragging the duffle behind him.

A living room was beyond the small foyer; a sturdy spruce with multi-colored lights was tucked in the corner. The focal point of the room was a brick fireplace surrounded by a brown sofa and two chairs. A few books were stacked on the coffee table and floor, and the daily newspaper was spread out on the couch. Chuck watched as Casey put his hands on hips and studied the room. Before Chuck could comment, a figure appeared from around the corner.

"Johnny-boy." It was nearly a whisper. The older woman launched herself at Casey, who caught her in a deep hug. Chuck stood back awkwardly and watched the scene unfold as the woman clenched his handler in a grip that would put Ellie to shame. After a minute, she pulled away to study his face.

"It's good to see you."

"You too."

She squeezed his hands, and then rested one on his shoulder.

"And this must be Charles." To avoid "moronic screwups" in the cover story (Casey's words, not his), the big man had already called his mother to tell her the reason she would have an extra guest during the holiday.

Chuck extended his hand and smiled politely. "Mrs. Casey, please, call me Chuck. It is nice…to meet you." His greeting had been interrupted by a warm hug around his shoulders. Chuck looked over her shoulder at Casey, briefly waved his arms in confusion behind her back, and then hesitantly put them around her and gave her a quick, slight squeeze. The woman stepped back and studied him. "Call me Mother Casey. I would say all of Johnny's friends call me that, but you are the first one I've met." She grinned and winked at Chuck.

"Uh, then Mother Casey it is," he stammered.

He gaped at the woman in standing in front of him. Mrs. Casey was in her mid-seventies, Chuck guessed, and had gray hair with wisps of burnt red. Her eyes were bright blue and she had a quick smile. He marveled at the genetic wonder that had allowed a woman like her to give birth to the grunting mass that stood to her right. While he tried to think of something else to say, a large brown dog with gray hair around its muzzle walked in from what he presumed was the kitchen.

"Hey, old girl. How is Mo?" Casey bent down and rubbed the dog's head.

_Forget Twilight Zone marathons for Christmas_, he thought. _I have just stepped into one._

"Let me get you some coffee," the woman said.

As Mrs. Casey made her way into the kitchen, Casey pointed to the end of the sofa. "That will be your bunk. Throw your crap there."

"And don't think I didn't notice the violation of rule four, Chuck."

"But, she insisted," he squeaked.

-x-

Chuck was uncharacteristically quiet during the meal. That was because his head was spinning with the amount of information he had learned over the dinner conversation. He dipped his spoon into the large bowl of beef stew that had been placed in front of him, and sorted through what he now knew about his handler after knowing next to nothing about the man, even after working with him for the past two years. Casey had a younger sister, Jen, who was a nurse and lived nearby with her husband, a math teacher, and their 20-year-old son. The young man, Daniel, attended the University of Chicago and lived at home.

"Jen can't wait to see you, Johnny, but she had a shift at the hospital tonight. She'll be here tomorrow, early I am sure." She looked across the table at the young man who was eyeing both of them intently.

"What about you, Chuck?" Thinking he was bored with their talking, she was politely trying to bring him into the conversation. "I understand you are part of Johnny's unit. What does a D.P.V. operator do, anyway?"

"It's… ah… when…" _Damn, had they discussed this part of the cover story?_

"The operator generally stays in the Desert Patrol Vehicle, ma." Casey smirked.

_Time to change the subject_, Chuck observed.

"So, _Mother Casey_, I understand John was in the choir as a child. Did he have a good singing voice?" Chuck looked pointedly at Casey from across the table.

She looked over at her son and smiled. "I'm surprised you told anyone that story, Johnny. Being in the choir wasn't exactly your happiest childhood memory."

"I bet it's a memory that is captured on home movies somewhere too," Chuck added. _Who knew a man's face could turn that red_. _Take that for all of your digs at me_, Chuck thought as he beamed at the larger man.

Casey grabbed his coffee mug, and walked towards the kitchen. However, he stopped and turned around, and stood behind the chair where his mother was seated. When he reached behind his back, Chuck knew he wasn't reaching for his wallet. _Oh, shit, I went too far this time_. Casey didn't actually point the handgun at him, but held it in the air for a moment, and waved it slightly. _Point taken_, Chuck thought.

He nervously cleared his throat. "But, I hear the Bulls are playing the Pistons tonight, and we wouldn't want to miss that death match now, would we?"

-x-

CIA Facility

The women were in the same position they had been in for the past ninety minutes, seated at the small table facing each other. Spread out between them was several crinkled wrappers of snacks from the vending machine down the hall. Neither woman had eaten that day, so the Barbeque Baked Lays chips and Lorna Doones were munched on appreciatively. The only other item on the table was the file folder that Sarah had set down when she entered the room earlier.

Of course, Sarah had shared nothing of what she had been doing for the past six years, so the conversation had drifted back to the time that they spent at the Farm: how they had met (sparring), initial impressions (hatred for each other which later developed into a healthy respect and friendship), and misadventures (acquiring questionable video of an instructor, which led to his dismissal).

_And here we are, sparring again_, Sarah thought. The light topic of the conversation had been a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the room.

Time to push forward.

"Listen, Meredith, you said you wanted to cut through the bull and talk, and now we've spent more than an hour avoiding the real reason I'm here. No matter how _amusing_ it's been to relive those days, we need to talk about today." She paused to study the woman's face. "We need to talk about why you're here in this situation, and how you got here."

She opened the folder and slid several sheets of paper across the table, directly in front of Meredith.

"Take a look at these. They should be familiar to you though since they were found in your apartment." Sarah tried to hold back the bitter tone that was seeping into her voice. _Stay objective; emotionless,_ she thought. "I'm sure there is a logical explanation, something we haven't considered, and you're going to tell us that this is a mistake." _Okay, that was sarcasm._

Sarah expected a well thought-out lie, back peddling, or even hatred glaring back at her.

She did not expect the woman to slowly smile and then laugh at her.

She laughed _at her_.

"Do you think this matters? Do you think this will change anything?" Meredith continued to smile maliciously.

"What I do is no different than what you do. We're the same-you and me. We're just slaves to _different_ masters. You act like it matters. You're nothing more than a pawn for them, Susan; showing up here to help a _friend_, keeping the CIA well fed. Go back to your pathetic life," she sneered.

It happened too quickly, the moment fluid but forceful. It wasn't a slap. Sarah knew it wasn't a slap because her own fist was clenched tight, and a pain rocketed through her hand and arm. It had connected with Meredith's cheek, sending the brunette reeling to the floor.

Chuck was right. The bitch had betrayed them. She was part of the Ring.

_There would be hell to pay._

-x-

Chicago

After dinner, the tall nerd wandered into the small living room, and the family photos lined up neatly on the mantle drew his attention. As he reached up to grab the frame of one to study it further, a rough growl came from behind him.

"Uh, uh. Rule three, Bartowski." Chuck drew his hand away as if the picture frame suddenly had caught on fire.

"Who's this?" He pointed to the smallest boy in the picture. It had been taken at a beach when the children were young, and the child appeared to be seven or so. Casey regarded the picture, his mouth drawn tight, and he frowned.

"That's my youngest, David." Chuck had not even heard Mrs. Casey come up behind them. _Nice spy work_, he chided himself for not noticing her there.

"He ran into some trouble when he was in college," she continued. "Got into drugs, and had other…difficulties." She studied the picture. "The last we heard he was living in Columbus. That was over three years ago."

There was an uncomfortable silence, and as Mrs. Casey returned to the kitchen, Chuck regretted bringing up such a sore family subject.

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Casey growled. "Because someone you don't know betrayed his own family? Yeah, well, sorry doesn't cut it, not for him."

"Well, everyone has a black sheep in the family, right Casey?" he said quietly to the man.

"Hell, you should know that," he sneered. "Look at your family tree. Doesn't 'Bartowski' mean 'bat-shit crazy' in Polish?"

_Okayyyy… so much for the sympathizing words of comfort, _he thought as the older man strode back to the kitchen. Casey probably owed him that one.

-x-

CIA Facility

Sarah left the holding cell abruptly, without looking at the dazed brunette now sprawled on the tile floor. When the door clicked shut, she leaned against it and tilted her head up, breathing in short gasps.

_What is the matter with you? Get your head in the game, Walker. You can't let emotion get in the way of the job. _

Shit.

She opened her eyes and shifted them to look down at Stumpy and Abner, seated at the computers and equipment. Their mouths hung open slack, staring at the blonde. It was obvious that they were not surprised at Meredith's words, but what had happened immediately after that.

Stepping away from the door, she looked down at the two men still gawping at her. She had to get out of this hole fast.

Sarah cleared her throat. "The approach to use friendly persuasion to gain access to critical information is obviously…not feasible with this detainee." Her eyes blazed and she glared at the agents. "This detainee, as you have witnessed, confessed to ties with rogue operations. We'll be using other methods to obtain the information we need."

Stumpy and Abner continued to stare bewilderedly at the blonde.

"Did I say something confusing? Do you understand your orders?"

They shifted in their chairs, and exchanged glances.

"Yes, ma'am"

_Plan B, boys._

-x-

Chicago

Chuck was snatched from a deep sleep by the sound of his phone vibrating against the wooden coffee table. He sat up quickly and looked around, caught in that brief, disorienting moment associated with waking up in a strange place. After recognizing the now somewhat familiar surroundings of the Casey living room, he leaned forward to grab the phone before it could wake up the entire household. The words "Unknown caller" flashed on the screen.

"…hello?" His voice cracked and he looked at the display. It was 3:20 a.m.

"Hey. It's me."

"Are you okay? Is everything…?" Chuck rubbed his face, the sound of Sarah's voice making him wake up.

"Just tired. I was worried about you."

Chuck leaned back down on the pillow, shifting his weight on the couch, and pulled the red plaid blanket over his head to muffle the sound of the conversation. He cleared his throat, and spoke quietly. "Yeah, well, they are treating me pretty well here. The storage closet in the basement has a small window, and Casey even has brought a plate of food down…"

"What?!"

"Kidding. Just kidding," he chuckled, and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You would be surprised, Sarah. It's actually kind of normal here. I was expecting…well, I don't know what I was expecting, but not this. His mother is genuinely friendly and … human. Did you know Casey is the oldest? His sister is lives close by here, too. And, they even have a dog, and not just a little yip-yip; it's one of those large and friendly types…. Which sounds oddly ironic right now as I say this..." he mused.

Chuck was surprised by an amused hum from the other end of the line. He decided it was worth being woken up in the middle of the night just to hear that sound. "Seriously, the man grew up in a freaking Norman Rockwell painting. How could he get so screwed up?"

Chuck heard Sarah breathe out a heavy sigh. "Well, this business has a way of doing that to people, you know."

For a moment neither one spoke. "Are you sure you're okay?" Chuck asked.

"I'm fine. I just …was checking in. I should let you go. I'll talk to you later."

"If I survive. I mean, Mother Casey will be bringing out the big guns tomorrow – pot roast with glazed carrots, and pecan pie for dessert."

"He is going to be mad that you are telling me all of this." Chuck could almost hear the smile in her voice.

"You mean madder than usual? Remember where his baseline is."

"Good night, Chuck."

-x-

Casey retuned from his early morning five-mile run expecting to find the nerd still wrapped in his blanket sound asleep on the sofa. He had tried to wake up the younger man to go with him on a run in the first place. _God knows he needs it_, Casey thought. But Chuck was an unmovable object, and Casey decided to enjoy the peace and solitude of jogging alone on a brisk morning.

He relished the idea of kicking Chuck off of the sofa when he returned. So, he was surprised to find the Human Intersect in his mother's kitchen, balancing on a stepstool with a light bulb in one hand and the glass light fixture in his other. Mrs. Casey stood with her hands on her hips looking up at Chuck with a satisfied smile. Casey shrugged off his fleece jacket.

"Hey, ma. What's this?'

"One of those light bulbs has been out for almost a week. I wanted to ask Daniel to climb up there and get it, but he has been busy with exams all week. Chuck offered to help." She glanced up again. "I'll go get the new one from the closet," she said as she left the room.

Casey looked up at the man balancing on the step stool. "Glad to see that electrical engineering degree from Stanford is finally coming in handy, Bartowski. Did they teach you how to change a light bulb? Just remember what they say: 'lefty loosy-righty tighty'."

Before Chuck could come back with a snide reply, Mother Casey's voice called down from the stairs.

"Oh, and Johnny? I'd like to have a fire tonight. Would you mind splitting some of those logs over by the garage?"

Chuck looked down from his perch and grinned. "Just remember what they say, Casey. 'He who cuts his own wood is _twice_ warmed.'"

Casey ignored the violation of rules one and six, and shrugged the fleece back on to go outside. _The nerd probably owed him that one_, he thought.

-x-

After showering, Chuck pulled on his blue jeans and a long-sleeve t-shirt, and wiped the steamed mirror with his palm until a small clear circle revealed his own reflection. He used the towel to methodically wipe down the counter and sink. Being an older home, it had only one full bath, and Chuck could tell that having an orderly and neat household was one trait that did run in the Casey family. He opened the door to let the steam out, and set about to brush his teeth. His eyes scanned the small room while he was engaged in his mundane tasks, but opened wide with surprise when he saw that the door to the room across the hall was ajar— Casey's boyhood room.

He quickly finished his task, and glanced sideways down the hallway that led to the stairs. _Time for a little spy work of my own_, he thought, and smiled slyly at the opportunity to find out more about the big man that had invaded every ounce of privacy he had for the past two years.

Chuck slid across the hall into the room. It was a small, with faded striped wallpaper, and the wall to the right of the door was lined with shelves. On those shelves sat trophies and mementos; football, swimming, and track. _Makes sense,_ Chuck thought. He could see how Casey would fit into the jock crowd at school. He made his way over to a sturdy pine desk with a globe perched on the corner. He scanned the desk. _What's this? Sheet music? And books? _He looked up. _And what is that in the corner…a sewing machine?" _

Suddenly, he was choked with a realization. This made him no different than Casey, spying on him and his family. And he sure as hell was _not_ like Casey, he thought. _I shouldn't be here. I …_

"Find what you're looking for, Bartowski?" Chuck's thoughts were interrupted by a growl directly over his shoulder, coming from a very angry Casey. _How did such a large person move so stealthily_? he wondered. Chuck slowly turned around, a weak smile on this face, and he raised his hands in a defensive position. Without a word, Casey reached behind himself and closed the door_. I _really_ wish Sarah were here right now_, Chuck thought.

"I thought I told you to not to touch anything."

"Technically, I followed those orders, because you can see that there was no touching involved." _Not a good enough answer_, Chuck observed, as he felt a tight fist in the fabric of his shirt and he was pulled forward towards Casey.

Trying desperately to diffuse the situation with some humor, he looked past the angry face hovering close, and over Casey's shoulder. He saw the Singer sewing machine sitting on a table in the corner. "You did have some surprising hobbies as a kid, big guy."

"That's my mother's, you idiot. This is her house; she can do as she pleases."

Before Chuck could respond, there was the sound of knuckles tapping on the door.

"Hey, boys. Is everything okay in there?" Mother Casey's voice announced her arrival, and she pushed the door open to look quizzically at the two men standing toe to toe.

"Sure, ma. We'll be right there." As soon as the door was pulled shut, Casey's hold on Chuck's collar tightened, and his eyes flashed with anger.

"Great job, Bartowski. Now my own mother thinks my enlistment is protected by the 'Don't ask – don't tell' policy."

The nerd's eyes glanced over to the sewing machine sitting in the corner of the room, and he started to open his mouth, but somehow the grip became even tighter.

"Say what you are thinking and Intersect 2.0 or not, I will kick your ass. Got it?"

-x-

CIA Facility

The conference room was the typical bland box, a prototype for every other conference room she had sat in, in every other CIA facility. She was relieved to get away from Agents Stumpy and Abner for awhile, and be alone with her thoughts. The conversation with Meredith, and its aftermath, weighed heavily on her. She flexed her fist, testing the movement and feeling the lingering pain.

She had spent a good part of the day overseeing the careful yet methodical extraction of information from Meredith. The change in approach had proven successful, and Sarah was surprised at how little force it had taken to break the down the woman's defenses. For that, she was thankful.

But it wasn't her primary thought. She was mentally exhausted. Chuck was stuck in Chicago, she was holed up here. And right now, she didn't give a rat's ass for the job, for Meredith, or for the greater good.

_Dammit. _

She typed a few keystrokes on the laptop in front of her and waited for the video conference with General Beckman to begin.

"Agent Walker, I understand your team has had several _conversations _with Ms. Davies. I also understand that she admitted to being a traitor to her country and has shared some valuable intel. Very good work.

The general leaned forward to speak next. "Sarah, I'm sorry that this was the outcome. We've lost a good agent, and you lost perhaps more than that. This was a difficult assignment for you. I want you to finalize your reports, and wrap up your findings. Agents Sullivan and Abbott will continue with the interrogation. I want you to go home."

"Yes, ma'am"

"And, Agent Walker? Merry Christmas."

-x-

Chicago

Chuck tossed and turned on the sofa, trying to get comfortable. His mind wasn't on the day's activities: meeting Casey's sister and her family, playing cards at the Formica kitchen table... He was thinking about a certain blonde: one who had stuck her neck out for him time and again, but couldn't verbalize the emotions that drove her to do that.

He had finally started to drift off to sleep when his phone vibrated abruptly, causing it to skitter across the coffee table. Chuck scrambled to throw off his blanket and nearly tipped over a glass of water trying to reach the device before the blaring ring tone could announce the late night caller to Mrs. Casey or her son asleep upstairs. Chuck rubbed his eyes, looked down at the phone, and was surprised to instead see an incoming text message from a number he did not recognize.

'_Hi'_

He thought for a moment, and then tapped his thumbs on the screen to type a reply_. 'Who is this?' _

'_Me'_

'_Prove it'_

'_Are u wearing the xmas tree boxers Ellie gave u before she left?'_

'_Hi Sarah'_

'_Is everything still ok?'_

'_Yeah, except for Mo. She takes up too much of the couch.'_

'_Who's Mo? Is that code?' _There was a pause, and Chuck smiled, wondering what could possibly be going through Sarah's head right then. Before he could explain, she continued.

_'Oh, u mean the dog'_

'_: ) The most excitement here today was that I escaped a harmful situation. Casey wanted me 2 go with him on his 5__-__mile run, but I pretended 2 be asleep.' _He waited a moment, but there was no reply. '_I met his sister - came over for dinner. She's like her mother, thank God.' _

He paused, and then continued_. 'Why text and not call?'_

'_Not alone 4 long. Conf room. Needed a break'_

'_Ouch...Everything OK?' _

Chuck watched for her reply, but nothing appeared.

'_Sarah?'_

'_Yes I'm here. It's ok.'_

He studied those last two words and frowned_. So much you still aren't telling me, _he thought_. _He contemplated for a moment, and then started thumb-typing his reply._ 'I miss y…' _Before he could hit "Send," the next message displayed.

'_Got 2 go now. I'll talk 2 u later.'_

Chuck sighed and pulled the blanket back around his body; it would be a long while before he could fall asleep.

_Up next: Find a Way Home_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thank you once again for your reviews – you guys are awesome. This is the third and final installment, so I hope you find it satisfactory ;) I love to know what you think. All of the previous A/N and disclaimers still apply._

**Chapter 3 – Find a Way Home**

"Wow. That is a…big…car?"

"Did the Intersect help you with that, or did you do that all on your own?" Casey scoffed at the remarkably obvious statement Chuck had made, and looked back under the hood. "Damn right it's a big car: 1972 Mercury Marquis, 429 cubic inch engine, V-8, original body color and chrome…" His voice trailed off, and he leaned back down to continue tinkering with the engine.

Chuck could tell he was trying to ignore him, hoping that he would get bored and go back to the house. The curly-haired man stood with his arms crossed in the doorway of the garage and decided that whatever was going on out here was definitely more exciting than reruns of _Laverne and Shirley._

Chuck had watched Casey put on his coat and trod out to the white garage behind his mother's house about thirty minutes earlier. His curiosity had finally gotten the better of him, and he had wandered through the back yard, and opened the service door to the small out-building. An overhead industrial light shone brightly on a workbench with hand tools, a power saw, and paint cans lined up neatly. However, almost the entire garage was taken up by the royal blue classic car parked in the center. The large man stood with his hands on his hips next to the car and then reached into his pocket.

"Here." Casey spoke, and Chuck barely had time to catch the small cluster of objects that had been pitched underhand towards him. "Make yourself useful. Try to start it."

_Decided to suspend rule three, huh? _Chuck thought as he made a grab for the keys and got behind the wheel. After several attempts, the engine roared to life and Casey closed the hood. "Out," Casey said, and when Chuck complied, the older man slid into the driver's seat and closed the door. He used the automatic opener attached to the visor to open the garage door.

"Get in," he said when the window slowly lowered on the passenger side.

"We're going somewhere..?"

"Can't leave you here, idiot; just get in." The younger man climbed in, and Casey shifted the car into gear. Chuck could not help but notice that the older man looked almost…content.

That expression just seemed out of place on Casey's face.

"Noticed mother is a little low on some Christmas cheer. There is a liquor store on the corner." Casey said, and backed the behemoth of a vehicle down the driveway and into the street. Christmas Eve had been a gray, drizzling, bleak day and it was already becoming dark outside. It was good to get out of the house for awhile. Even though Mrs. Casey had been a gracious host, Chuck was going a little stir crazy without his usual electronic distractions and not knowing how Sarah was doing in Washington.

_Not exactly how I envisioned spending Christmas Eve; heading to the liquor store with Casey in a car from the Nixon era,_ he thought to himself bitterly, and wondered again what Sarah was doing. He leaned his head back against the vinyl head rest and sighed. _God, I am an idiot. How can I be so selfish? This may not be my ideal holiday, but hers is non-existent,_ he thought.

Casey startled him out of his thoughts. "We're leaving tomorrow. Have your crap by the door at 1300."

Chuck looked at the man, preparing to gage the reaction to the question he was getting ready to ask. He knew Casey would not answer him directly, but maybe he could read his face.

"Hey, Casey. Do you think Sarah will be back by then too? Have you talked to her?"

"Not my mission, Chuck. " _That face _is_ made of stone_, Chuck observed.

-x-

Casey had told him to stay in the car and not touch anything while he made a quick "stop and grab" for the liquor, so when Casey disappeared around the corner and into the store, Chuck proceeded to shuffle through the papers in the glove box. Not finding anything of interest, Chuck stretched out his long legs and yawned. He glanced down at the archaic push button radio controls, and fiddled with the heater. Suddenly, the nerd broke out of his musings when there was a distinct tapping on the car window.

"Get out. Now."

"You know, I am getting a little sick and tired of hearing about rule thre…" He jerked his head up from the controls to glare at his handler and the next words stuck in his throat.

_Oh, shit._ That was definitely not Casey's face looking through the car window. And no matter how many times he had looked down the barrel of a gun, it was never something he would get used to.

"I said move!" The man waving the handgun in his face opened the car door, grabbed Chuck's arm, and pulled the lanky man out of car. Chuck held his hands out in front of him, the universal sign of surrender.

"Easy. I don't want any trouble here." He tried to be calm. Chuck's mind raced as he studied the average height, stocky man who had now shoved him up against the passenger door. _Fulcrum? Ring? C'mon Intersect, c'mon, c'mon, need a little help here…where's __"__Neo?__" _

The good news, Chuck thought, was that he didn't have to worry about having a gun in his face anymore. That's because it was now pressed against his temple.

"Gimme your wallet and the keys to the car."

"Wait. You want the keys to this car?" He tilted his head towards the Marquis and opened his eyes wide in a sarcastic gesture.

"Do _it._" The man was not amused; he hissed through clenched teeth and shoved the gun harder against the side of Chuck's head.

_Shit, this is not happening,_ he thought. He had taken down weapon smugglers, global terrorists, people who wanted to commit unspeakable acts of destruction against humanity, and now he was about to get capped by a desperate man with shaky hands and wild eyes . _And the Intersect is doing nothing. Damn you, _he thought, though he wasn't exactly sure who "you" was in that context.

That had to be the moment when Casey circled the cinder block store with his paper sack in one hand and the keys jangling in the other.

"Uh…Casey?" Before the older man could process the sight of the asset on the verge of being sent to his maker, the gunman pressing a pistol to Chuck's head spun and pointed his gun directly at Casey's head.

"The keys. _Now._"

With that, Intersect 2.0 came online.

Less than a minute later, Chuck stood panting out quick breaths and filling his lungs with icy air that burned his throat. His mind reeling he only remembered his legs cutting through the air, a few well-placed kicks, and then Casey had the dirtbag cuffed on the ground.

"Get in the car. I'll call it in."

Before Casey reached for his phone though, he glared at the younger man.

"What the hell was that, anyway, Bartowski?! Why didn't _that_ kick in sooner?" The word "that" was accentuated with a slap to the side of Chuck's head. "How about doing _that _when the gun was pointed at you, you idiot!"

Suddenly, Casey blanched when he was struck by a realization, and he looked at the younger man. He watched as Chuck's face went through a gamut of emotions: horrified, confused, followed by a blank look. And then, Chuck grinned.

_Maybe that's not what the 'Intersect' would have done_, he thought. _But, it _is_ what 'Chuck' would've done. I won't let this thing control me. I won't. _

"Get out of my sight," Casey barked. Chuck took that to mean 'Get back in the car', so he did. He watched as Casey made a quick call, and then got back in the car. "We're leaving the scum here. The locals are on the way."

As the bloated sedan was maneuvered through the residential streets and back to the Casey home, Chuck snuck a look at the driver now deep in thought. Casey spoke only once more before they pulled in the driveway.

"Bartowski, you are a moron."

_Hmmphf._

Chuck did not need the Intersect 2.0 language translator to interpret that sentiment.

_You're welcome_, he thought.

-x-

The warm fire, smell of smoked ham, and bubbling voices was a sharp contrast to the harrowing experience they had just encountered. After entering the home and shaking off the chill, Chuck watched as Casey set the bag on the countertop, and sifted through the cupboard for a glass as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. They were greeted by Casey's sister, who had arrived with her family for Christmas Eve dinner.

"Where have you been? I see you took the old girl out for a test drive." She kissed her brother's cheek, and wrapped an arm around his waist, squeezing tightly.

"Gotta ride the old girls hard to keep them limber," he smirked, which earned him a slap on the arm from the woman.

"You're incorrigible, John. No wonder you've never met a girl who will put up with you. Which, I've been meaning to ask; have you met any women?"

_Extra points for the sisterly move of working _that_ into the conversation_, Chuck observed, and decided to leave the two in the kitchen, even though it would be fun to watch Casey squirm during his sister's interrogation. At the thought of sisters, Chuck could not help but feel homesick and wonder how Ellie was faring with the Awesomes. This was his first Christmas without his big sister.

Chuck quietly left the siblings and made his way up the stairs. He found the empty bathroom, turned on the light, and closed the door. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he made a call.

"Hey, sis."

"Hey. Why didn't you call me sooner? How's Sarah?"

"Good, she's good." It was getting too easy to lie. "She forgot something at her place, and wanted to go back and get it. Just thought I'd call." _It's good to hear your voice. I miss you, _he thought.

"Well, thanks." She lowered her voice. "You rescued me."

"That bad, huh?"

"Hmph. You know Honey," referring to the blonde dominator who was now her mother-in-law. "Let's just say she is a bit of a control freak, and likes to meddle in family member's lives."

"Really, sis?" he deadpanned.

"Very funny. That's different. I'm your sister." She became more serious. "I'm glad we did this though…visiting Devon's family. I can tell; it was important for him to come home, connect with his brothers. He deserved this. Besides," she chuckled, "You really get to know someone when you see them with their family."

Chuck couldn't contain a cough, thinking about the earlier fiasco with Jack Burton, and the past two days in Chicago.

"Chuck, take something for that if you're getting a cold."

"Sis? Merry Christmas. I'll see you tomorrow night, okay?"

He ended the call, and looking in the bathroom mirror, Chuck sighed. Ellie's words and her ability to compromise did make him realize something. He was being somewhat of a resentful ass, he admitted to himself. _And not just about being here._ His stubbornness, combined with Sarah's inability to express herself without sharp knives and a steady hand would eventually tear them apart.

"You can be a real idiot, you know?" Even his reflection seemed to agree with him.

Tonight, he decided, he would just be grateful. Tomorrow, he would be with his own family, and hopefully Sarah would be home. He had some mending to do; they both did.

-x-

Later, they sat around the table of food, with the hum of conversation and laughter. Suddenly, the sound of a cell phone ringing broke through the din, and Chuck realized it was his. His fork clattered to his plate as the room grew quiet when all eyes turned to stare at him. Flustered, Chuck's eyes scanned around the table at the quizzical faces. He pulled the phone from his front pocket and tried to hold back the pleased look on his face when he saw it was Sarah calling from her cell.

"So sorry. That's my dad. International call. I should take this," he blurted out and darted up from the table. He crossed into the living room, away from prying ears and eyes, and answered the call.

"Hey, Sarah." _God, did he really sound that relieved?_

"Hey. Are you still okay?"

"Oh, you know how it is." He looked into the dining room and lowered his voice even more. "Nothing out of the ordinary here. Talking, watching TV, playing cards, almost getting gunned down by a carjacker, eating cheesecake, …"

"Wait. What did you say?"

"I'll tell you about it later. What about you? Are you still in Washington?"

"No, there was nothing left to do there." She sounded bitter.

"Sarah, I will see you tomorrow then, right?"

"No, Chuck." _What!?_ He felt a wave of panic and swallowed nervously.

"You're leaving? Now?" His voice cracked. _Smooth,_ he thought sarcastically.

He heard her sigh. "Just go outside, okay."

-x-

Chuck saw the familiar golden head of hair first. She stood on the porch next to the stairs, wearing blue jeans and a thick sweater. He studied her face for a moment. Her shoulders hung wearily and her eyes were dark and tired. _God, she is still so beautiful_. Sarah was watching him with a wistful look on her face. Confusion, relief, and elation bubbled to the surface. He pushed back his emotions and stepped outside.

"You're freezing. Come in."

"Wait." She paused. "No, not yet. I just want to stay out here for a few minutes first. Grab a coat? " she asked.

He walked back inside and straight into the immovable object that was now waiting on the other side of the door. Chuck tried to ignore the look on Casey's face; his eyes were squinted, his lips pressed together in a frown and he was seriously pissed. _Of course he noticed me leave. It's what he does_.

"If Walker blows this op and endangers my family, I'll…" he growled.

"Casey, this is Sarah we are talking about. Just go back in there with your family, okay?" With one last glare, and to Chuck's surprise, the older man returned to the dining room.

Chuck pulled on his jacket quickly, and spotted Casey's fleece hanging next to it on a peg by the door. Grabbing it, he pushed the door open, crossed the porch and offered it up to Sarah.

"Here, put this on, okay? It's warmer than what you have." He reached behind her and helped put the jacket over her shoulders. Sarah pulled her arms through the sleeves. The coat was enormous on the slim woman, hanging past her hips, but she pulled it tight around her upper body and nodded appreciatively.

"Thanks." she said quietly.

He had not noticed until now that the temperature had dropped enough to turn the light drizzle to snow. The flakes were wet and misshaped, the imprecise kind that land with almost a splash and melt on contact with the brittle grass.

Chuck moved to stand closer to her, his eyes trailing across her face. It had been awkward and tense between them for weeks, and he tried to comprehend why she would be here, now, this far from home.

_Did you come all the way here to still not open up to me_? He sighed.

"Can you tell me what happened in Washington? Is something wrong? Is Meredith going to be okay?"

With that, her eyes flashed with anger and then turned even darker. She blew out a breath and looked at him. He could see her knuckles turn white while she gripped the railing behind her.

"I was betrayed again; Chuck, _we_ were betrayed by someone I trusted. I needed…_Dammit_." She hissed under her breath and stopped.

She had come too far, _they_ had come too far, and he was not going to let them ruin this now, or have an awkward silence that would later keep him up at night, tossing and turning in bed. Drawing a breath, he began to speak, hesitated, and then made the decision to plow ahead with his words.

"Sarah, I know you don't want to tell me why you are here. That's okay. It's not even important really. Whatever reason you have for coming here, I just want to say... I know how you think, and it wasn't a mistake." Those words sounded inadequate; he had felt his heart banging and his stomach flutter when he saw her. _How can I tell her that; what she does to me?_

She still did not speak, and glanced out across the yard so she would not have to look at him.

_Just talk to me,_ he pleaded in his mind. When she held her silence, he looked across the yard and up at the street lights; the beam of light reflected off scattered snowflakes that were falling to the pavement. "Sarah, come here." He took her hand, and pulled her gently down the wooden steps of the porch, and on to the lawn. He could feel her relax in his hold as they trudged to the center of the yard. "I want you to feel this."

Chuck spread his arms and tilted his face upward. The flakes began to melt in his hair and covered his coat with a dusting. "I've never seen snow on Christmas," he chuckled, and closed his eyes. He was hoping the blissful silliness of standing out in the snow with arms wide would have gotten a reaction, any reaction, from her. She didn't reply. _Just say something, tell me wh… _

"I have."

Startled, he listened as she continued.

"Cleveland. Wisconsin. I remember it. It wasn't like this, though."

They let the silence of the night envelope them. She had opened up to him, even a little. It was a start, a beginning. Chuck decided to press forward.

"So, can I ask you a question?" In his mind he added, _and will you answer it?_ "You said you needed something. Can you tell me what made you come here?"

Chuck watched her face as she struggled for the words, and he read something that he was surprised to see. _God, she is angry._ _At me? _

"You think it's you, don't you?" she said, her eyes sparkling with intensity.

_He needs me to tell him?! _Sarah thought. _Can't he see how I feel? Why does he do this?_ She was _afraid_ of what he had caused her to do; traveling part way across the country to see him, risking too much. And she was…angry. Angry at him for that power over her, for the weakness it displayed. Repressed emotions that had simmered for too long were seeping out, and caused her throat to burn. It was him. His sweet and charming ways had disarmed her.

And, yes, she was angry for that.

Chuck looked at her, baffled by the remark, and the fact that she sounded infuriated with him.

Sarah stared at him intently, holding her hands in fists at her side before taking a breath. She almost choked on each word when she finally continued. "You. Why do you…why do you do this?" She hissed. "You think it's… your damn charm… your stupid movies, the way you look when you're solving a problem, your…_crazy_ hair, and your _ridiculous_, crooked smile."

Her voice grew louder as she continued to unleash a tirade that he had rarely witnessed from the woman. "I bet you think it's your lousy hamburgers, and family dinners… Or the Christmas presents, and eating pizza on paper plates! You think I'm charmed by the way you help your friends without expecting anything back! You think I'm here because of... bridesmaid's dresses, chocolate croissants and freaking Berry Loops…!"

"Does that bother you? Because I can stop that, really…"

"See? Why do you do that?!" She paused, letting out a growl and put her palm on her forehead. "Damn you, Chuck Bartowski!" Bringing her hand down to her side, she turned to gaze at him intently.

A confused expression was plastered on Chuck's face. "Sarah, are you angry at me? Did I do something?"

She sighed heavily. "Yes...no. Chuck, it's not what _you_ did." She looked down at her feet, as if the right words could be found anywhere else but his eyes. "God, why does this have to be so hard?" Her eyes finally connected with his. "It's what I did. I let myself get emotional. Involved. Because of you."

_It _is_ me,_ he thought.

He stepped closer, so that their bodies touched, and gazed down at her. A lopsided smile began to grow on his face. Drained from her pent-up outburst, she was breathing out small puffs of air that clouded in front of her when they met the cold. He wrapped her in his arms, and pressed his cheek in her hair.

_Not exactly how and where I expected this to happen. For her to finally open up to me. __I need to see her smile_, he thought.

"If there was some mistletoe here I would be forced to kiss you right now."

"It didn't work out so well last time," she said softly.

"That is because it was being held over our heads by a man who coordinates his wardrobe with his beverage of choice," referring to a drunken Jeff at the Buy More holiday party. He became serious again when their eyes met. "Maybe we should give it another try."

"Maybe we should." He knew that she was not talking about the mistletoe anymore.

Chuck brought his hand up to her face and gently rubbed his thumb along her cheek. When he leaned in to kiss her, his lips responded to the warmth and softness of her mouth. It was slow and languid at first; an unhurried burn. She traced her tongue gently along his bottom lip, exploring tentatively and he groaned lightly.

When the kiss ended, Chuck pushed his lips together, looked down at the ground and then met her eyes again.

"Wow. Okay. Did I tell you how glad I am that you're here?"

She looked up and him and then to the porch. "Chuck, I owe you a better explanation, so let me say this okay?" Sarah hesitated, and bit her lip, while looking at him. She spoke quietly. "When the general told me to go home for Christmas, I didn't know where that was. But I think I figured out where to start looking for it. That's why I'm here." She sighed quietly, and looked down at her hands.

His grin somehow became even bigger and he squeezed her hand.

"We need to go in," she said. _And meet the angry beast,_ Chuck added to himself. They had felt pleasantly isolated and protected outside in the snow. It was time to face what was behind the doors.

"Are you sure?" He smiled. "I feel like I should warn you about them. You remember that scene in Episode IV, with the beady-eyed creatures; well, be prepared to meet the Caseys." As he held the door open for her, he noticed that she even smiled at that.

Casey met them in the foyer. _Had he been watching us the whole time? _Chuck wondered.

"So, the 'girlfriend' who dumped the nerd comes crawling back; is that the cover story now?" He snorted and then growled at the blonde woman. "Keep to the cover, and maybe we can salvage this cluster." Sarah glared at him, with a look that clearly drew a line in the sand. _Back off, Casey. I can handle this._

The three entered the dining room, looking at the eager faces.

"Uh, this is…I want to introduce you to my friend, Sarah…girlfriend, actually."

-x-

The dinner and conversation trickled to a content close for the night. Casey allowed his sister to hold him in hug, embarrassed because his teammates watched from the kitchen with knowing smiles on their faces. Jen promised to stop by in the morning one last time before they left for the airport. With the last visitor out the door, the small home now felt quiet and peaceful.

-x-

Mrs. Casey had said goodnight to her son, and stacked the last of the plates in the sink, deciding it was time for bed. The older woman turned off the light in the foyer, held the front of her robe up and away from her stocking feet, and climbed the stairs. Before she reached the top step, she stopped in the darkened staircase and pivoted quietly on her toes. She cast a glance over the banister and studied the scene in the living room, unnoticed. Chuck sat on the floor with his back against the sofa, legs stretched lazily out in front of him. The girl sat in one of the chairs, with her legs tucked under her. Mrs. Casey watched her son, as his eyes shifted from one to the other.

_What have you gotten yourself into?_ she wondered to herself. _You've always been alone, the operator, but this girl, she's part of your operation; important to you. They both are._ She chuckled, thinking how much it must have pained her stubborn son to have to work with the much younger female. _He respects her though, _she thought_. It would also pain you to know that I've known for years _what_ you are. That doesn't change _who _you are, though, _she silently reminded him.

The young man with the curly hair puzzled her. He didn't possess the hollow mask that she often saw her son wear, and one that was evident with the woman as well. He was open, more affable and care free, and she was glad for that. _I hope you keep that, _she thought. She didn't understand their connection, not enough of it anyway, but that was okay. She knew her son had found an oddly dysfunctional but loyal extended family.

_Take care of yourself. Take care of them, _she thought and turned to climb the stairs.

-x-

"That's your bunk." The green sleeping bag bounced near Sarah's feet and rolled against the leg of the coffee table.

With a bit of sarcasm in her voice, she replied. "Thanks, Casey. I'll take it from here."

The big man frowned and then glared at both of them like a pair of teenagers, silently daring them to cross over the line while under his mother's roof. He used the poker to adjust the logs in the fireplace, creating a small burst of embers. He then trudged up the stairs, and they could hear the door to his room close quietly.

Silently, Sarah unfurled the sleeping bag, and worked the zipper down the side and across the bottom. Chuck watched her from his position on the sofa.

"I'll take the floor. You come up here." He patted one of the well-worn cushions.

She ignored him and continued to methodically unzip the bag completely, and laid it flat on the floor.

"Come down here, with me." She gently tugged on his forearm and pulled him towards the floor.

"You just want me for my blanket." He teased and waved the red plaid cover in front of her.

"If I only wanted the blanket, I would have taken it by now."

Staring at her, he slid off of the sofa cushion, pulling his blanket and pillow behind him, and landed on the floor with a muffled thud. She laid her hand gently on his shoulder and pushed him back, until he was lying on his side, facing her. Sarah spread out the blanket on both of them, and then reclined until she was on her side, looking up at him.

"You have to promise me something."

"Just tell me what it is."

She spoke so quietly he had to strain to hear the words. "Don't change. Don't lose yourself for this," tapping his forehead.

Chuck sighed heavily and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Sarah, I may have been an idiot at times and not always thinking things through, but I promise. Trust _me_. We'll figure this out, okay? I'm still me and I'm not going anywhere; I'll be here." He paused to look around the room. "Well, not _here_ here, as in here, but here…", as he motioned his hands between them.

Sarah tilted her head up to meet his eyes. "Shut up, Chuck."

She made sure that he did by sliding a hand around the back of his neck and pulling his head down until their lips met.

_Shutting up has never tasted like this; God, I was doing it all wrong before. Shutting up is way underrated,_ he thought.

When their lips parted, Sarah snuggled her head into his chest, and placed a hand lightly on his side. He could hear her soft breathing in an even cadence.

"Sarah?" He whispered, while slowing brushing his finger tips across her back. "The 'crazy hair' thing, though? What you said outside, earlier? There is nothing I can do about it. Believe me, I tried. Ellie's tried. I could shave it, but then I think I would look like that guy from the movie, remember the movie, with …Sarah? Did you fall asleep? If you did, goodnight, okay? And, I am going to be saying that every night from now on, so I hope you get used to it. The 'goodnight' part, I mean. Not the other part. Sarah?....goodnight."

The End

* * *

_A/N: Blessings and Peace_


End file.
